


The Card on the Mantelpiece

by KrisserCI5



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Christmas, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 07:25:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8967226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrisserCI5/pseuds/KrisserCI5
Summary: How a greeting card changed Doyle's life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My betas are fabulous! Written for DIALJ Xmas countdown.

The Card on the Mantelpiece  
by krisser

 

Ray Doyle pushed the key into the lock, turning it gently to let himself into Bodie's flat, then pressed the door closed quietly behind him. He hung his holster up on the hook automatically as he moved around the entry hall wall. Before him, framed in his bedroom doorway, stood a dripping wet Bodie with soapsuds drifting to the floor. His left hand pressed a towel haphazardly against his torso, while his right hand held his Walter PPK steady, aimed directly at the intruder.

Doyle moved his open hands up slowly. "Just me."

"Oi! Say something sooner next time, will ya!" Bodie tossed his gun on the bed and returned to finish in the bathroom.

Doyle headed to the drinks' cabinet. He poured Bodie and himself a whisky, adding some water to his but leaving Bodie's alone. He sipped his drink as his eyes wandered about the familiar room.

Doyle's gaze passed over the mantelpiece and did a double take to pause on a single holiday card resting there. His brow furrowed. He was certain he had seen that same exact card on Bodie's mantelpiece last year. The clarity of the memory in itself was just as odd as the language that adorned the face of the missive. He remembered the oddity of the words - a foreign language, but not one he was familiar with.

He picked it up and looked inside. A single sentence in the same language, and a name. Nick. _That_ he recognised. 

He momentarily smiled to himself, old Saint Nick had sent a personal greeting to his partner. _How charming_ , he thought sardonically.

Doyle fingered the already worn edges, and knew he was right. It was the same card as last year, and if memory served, it was the only one he'd had out last year.

Bodie padded in behind him, picked up the whisky and lifted the glass to his lips. He swallowed the entire contents in one fell swoop.

"I'd say thanks, but it's my whisky," Bodie commented with a crooked smile and no sting hidden in his tone.

Doyle turned and responded to the amusement he heard with a smile of his own as he nodded. He held the card out. "Bodie, what does it say?"

Bodie answered without reading, " Zalig Kerstmis."

"Sounds lovely. What does it mean?" Doyle figured it could be one of a dozen different languages.

"Merry Christmas. It's Dutch." Bodie pinched the card from Doyle's hand and replaced it on the mantelpiece.

"What's it say on the inside?" Doyle persisted.

"Ik wens ieder een gezellig, warm en fijn kerstfeest! Nick." Bodie held his hand up. "I know, Doyle, it means - I wish everyone a cozy, warm and merry Christmas!"

"Who's Nick?" 

"An uncle," Bodie answered simply.

Curious despite Bodie's closed-off tone, he asked, "A real one? Which side?"

"My mother's. He's gone now." Bodie's tone changed markedly, becoming more sad than remote.

Doyle's curiosity won in lieu of common sense. "Bodie, I'm sure this exact card sat on the mantelpiece last year."

"Very observant, Sherlock." Bodie turned away to pour himself another splash of whisky. He held out the bottle to his partner, who took it absentmindedly. 

"But it was the only card last year, as well." Doyle topped off his drink.

Bodie held his glass to his lips and just before taking a sip he commented, "Don't recall you sending me one." He sat down on the sofa.

Doyle looked back at the card on the mantelpiece. "If he's passed on, then why put it out again?"

Exasperation warred with resignation. He knew his partner on the scent. Bodie took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He was a good man. I miss him, one of the few. The card is a nice memory that he never missed a year."

"Oh." Doyle pondered that for a moment. "You never mentioned him." He tried not to feel slighted.

"You don't talk about your family either." Bodie popped his stockinged feet onto the coffee table. "Now be useful and call for some takeaway. Turn on the telly while you're at it. It's been a bitch of a week."

Doyle couldn't argue that and did as directed.

 

\--------

 

Over the course of the next week, that single, lonely card that sat atop Bodie's mantelpiece was driving him batty. He just couldn't pinpoint why. His partner had been spot on when he said they didn't talk about their families. It was true.

Doyle could admit to himself that he took his mother's love for granted. It's what mums did. He'd quite forgotten that Bodie's mum had died when he was young, not sure the age, and that he left home when he was fourteen. He knew more than most about the time that followed, but nothing really of the time before or any family, alive or dead. . . until now. He knew about Uncle Nick, that was all.

Doyle was grateful that they were just finishing up reports and looking into cold files. His mind was wandering aplenty. Uncle Nick, he had an uncle. Doyle was truly happy that Bodie had one relative who brought a smile to his face in memory. The only relative who had sent him a card yearly. 

One card, just the one. Doyle received plenty from his family and friends. He just kept them in a basket by the door and tossed them in the rubbish when the holidays were done. 

They were on call most of the time until year's end, and they would eat together if they weren't on a job. When they weren't on call, Doyle would head home to Derby. He hadn't thought about Bodie. He wondered what Bodie actually did when he'd gone home those few times. Sit and look at his lonely card?

Doyle shook his head to clear it from his maudlin thoughts. Lonely card, for Christ's sake. Bodie would fall to the floor laughing at that one. Doyle stood up with a plan to fix some tea and pushed all other thoughts away.

 

\--------

 

Doyle rolled the papers he was walking down to the computer room. Like a tongue worrying a loose tooth, he couldn't keep his thoughts off that solitary card. Maybe it bothered him because it spoke of a loneliness of the spirit. He didn't think of Bodie as a lonely man, but to be honest, he hadn't really thought about what Bodie did apart from what they did together. Oh, sure, he got a leg over, but no bird stuck around very long -- bad hours, and lately there hadn't been many birds whatsoever. Of course, they had been too damn busy. No time even for enjoying a holiday since summer before last. No wonder he felt off.

Doyle wondered if it was himself that was lonely and so saw it in others. Was he lonely? He did want something more, something like he thought he'd found in Ann, but real. He didn't feel lonely, but granted he spent most of his time with Bodie . . . so that meant they both weren't lonely much, but what about that time apart? Hmmm . . . what exactly was nagging him?

 

\-------- 

 

The thoughts persisted and Doyle found himself at W.H. Smith to pick up a greeting card. He wasn't sure if it was just so that other card wouldn't sit all alone on the mantelpiece, or that he just wanted Bodie to have someone remember him this year. He paid his fifty p and wondered if Bodie got any real gifts to open. There were always the gag gifts at the CI5 New Year's party, but what if he received no others?

It bothered him tremendously, thinking of Bodie all alone with no gifts, just the memory of that lone card and the Queen's speech.

Doyle realised that he needed a current case to work on. The cold cases had him going buggy!

 

\-----

 

Doyle shook his head, it was only getting worse. Not only did that lone card prey on his mind, but now that he realised that his mate probably received no pressies, Doyle felt driven to get him some, and shopping he went. A Swiss roll here, a box of Cadbury there, even a book on military battles could be found in his car boot by the end of the afternoon. Bodie would know he was remembered. 

Doyle stayed busy just to keep the nagging thoughts at bay. How had he not noticed? And why did he suddenly notice now? He stuffed the last of the treats into the boot, but he knew his preoccupation wasn't assuaged. Damn, what else was needed?

 

\---------- 

 

Doyle sat in the CI5 restroom with the other unlucky lads on duty. He rubbed his arms and blew into his cupped hands. He was cold and he knew that if he were cold, then Bodie must be freezing. He got up to make fresh tea.

Mr Cowley stuck his head inside the restroom. "Bodie, Doyle, Jax, Anson. You are no longer on standby. If we have no assignments, you will resume standby on the twenty-eighth."

The freed men stood immediately. 

"Well, lads, I do have better places to be," Bodie said to the men remaining on standby. He gave a vague wave as he exited, Doyle was on his heels without acknowledging anyone.

Doyle followed Bodie all the way to the car park. When Bodie pulled his keys from his pocket ready to get away, Doyle stood against the door.

"What better places?" 

"Home. Away from here. No stand-by!" Bodie wore an expression of relief.

Doyle leaned forward and rested his hand on Bodie's forearm, "Bodie, come home with me."

A real smile touched Bodie's eyes. "Nah, you go along. I'm fine."

"Seriously, my mum will love you and there's lots of food." Doyle's voice was low and earnest.

He watched a softness take over Bodie's expression, a look he suddenly realised that he received more than any other.

"Pie?" Bodie looked up with a dream-like expression.

"Lots of pie," Doyle assured him, but he already knew that Bodie was on board. "I'll go home and pack and meet back at your place later. We can get an early start in the morning that way."

"There better be lots of pie!" Bodie called after his disappearing partner.

 

\--------- 

 

They were on the road by five a.m. in order to beat the morning traffic and the poor blighters having to go to work. Doyle drove and Bodie rested his head back, closed his eyes, and snoozed for most of the journey.

Doyle took a deep, satisfied breath. Glancing at the dozing man next to him, he couldn't keep from smiling. Bodie's pressies were in the boot and he knew that the food would exceed Bodie's not too fussy tastes. And more importantly, he knew what Bodie was doing this year.

He hadn't called his mum, but he knew she'd be fine with another mouth at the table. She had been saying for the longest time he could bring Bodie home. He really should have thought to bring Bodie before now. No matter. He was beginning a new tradition.

A light dusting of snow covered the roads as he pulled off the motorway. Bodie awoke with the engine downshift.

"Sorry, was rude to sleep the whole drive," Bodie said as he stretched the best he could in his seat.

"Not to worry – you can drive home," Doyle responded with a smile.

"You're in a good mood this morning." Bodie studied the area avidly.

"We're out of London, no work, someone else is cooking our food. All is well." Doyle turned onto a road of small, well-maintained houses. He stopped the car in front of a two-storey house with a huge wreath hanging on the door, and a decorated tree in the window.

Doyle pulled out all the packages from the boot. Bodie carried both sets of bags as he followed his partner.

"Mum, I'm here," Doyle called out loudly, hoping she'd get the door. His arms were laden with the pressies and food. "I brought Bodie with me," he announced as a warning of company.

The door open quickly to a woman wiping her hands on an apron corner before throwing her arms open to offer a welcoming hug to Bodie. "Ah, finally, you've come. I am so glad to meet you, Bodie. Ray talks about you each time he visits." Mrs Doyle hugged the guest tightly as she smiled brightly over his shoulder to her son. 

He smiled back.

Doyle hid the gifts under the tree. Besides Bodie's, he had a couple for his mum and sister as well.

His mum kept Bodie in the kitchen with her as she fussed. She loved to feed guests and he knew Bodie was happy to oblige. Her chatter was warm and sincere, and Doyle was resigned to the fact that more than a few childhood secrets were bound to be spilled. It really didn't bother him; other than some ribbing he knew the childhood secrets shared were safe with his partner, and Bodie was enjoying it all.

 

\----- 

 

Ray sat back stuffed from the delicious meal. His mum had outdone herself, as was her fashion. Bodie knew he spoke the truth about the food and pie. He saw Bodie still eyeing the pies, and no matter how much his partner ate, he always had room for pie. His mum was already sweet on his partner, and would deny him none of her offerings. Bodie seemed well pleased. And he was pleased because of that. 

He was pleased, why? Now he was worrying over Bodie's stomach. Wait, to be fair, he had been taking care of Bodie's stomach for years. He had been worried about Bodie's lack of holiday feasting. He didn't want Bodie or that damn card to be alone anymore. 

So how was he planning on accomplishing that? Bring him home each time he visited? Well, yeah, that would be grand. Ray knew he was already more content on this trip than he had been in years just because of Bodie's presence. 

Damn, that was significant and time to face this odd preoccupation he'd had of late. Bodie made him happy. He worried about Bodie, and he wanted Bodie with him . . . always?

Doyle's heart seemed to freeze for a beat or two. He stood and left the kitchen to shake the feeling away. Maybe a walk would help him to avoid his thoughts but oddly they went with him. Bodie was following. He turned to halt him and noticed where he was by the stairs. Instead of avoiding his partner, Doyle pulled Bodie through the door under the stairs. He fumbled about in the dark until he located the hanging torch. "Always kept one here when I was a kid." Doyle shrugged as he smiled conspiratorially.

"I have a feeling this could be a trip with lots of revealing secrets," Bodie said quietly as he stepped closer to Ray.

"You're probably right at that," Doyle agreed ruefully.

Bodie stopped and leaned against the wall, which made it easier not to knock his head. "I haven't asked a thing. Your mum keeps volunteering them." Bodie's tone seemed to hold an apology.

"Don't worry, it's fine. That's not what's bothering me."

"Then what is?" Bodie said gently.

Doyle searched Bodie's face in the low light, not even knowing what he was hoping to find. He knew he needed to talk this out and Bodie was his usual sounding board. "I don't want you to be lonely, and I don't want that damn card to be lonely year after year. I'm not lonely when we're together. Are you?" Doyle's words came rushing out.

"Never lonely with you, Ray," Bodie said honestly.

"Don't want us to be," Doyle said with a sense of working out a puzzle aloud.

"How do you plan to accomplish that?" Bodie's tone was leading.

"I think . . ." Doyle searched Bodie's face once more and decided to go with instinct instead of intellect. He could banish that nagging feeling once and for all.

"You think? I know it's a new process," Bodie said easily prodding Doyle on.

"I think you will either love it or hate it."

"What exactly?"

Doyle closed the distance between them and kissed Bodie on the lips. A chaste kiss, but not brotherly. He stepped back slightly to break the kiss.

"Are you serious about this?" Bodie whispered.

"Yes!" Doyle's breath wafted about Bodie's face.

Doyle found himself crushed tightly against Bodie's chest as his lips were covered, kissed and worshiped with a reverence that could only be love.

And Ray Doyle finally figured out how to cease the nagging completely. He kissed back as good as he got and knew for certain that the card on the mantelpiece would never be lonely again.

fin


End file.
